


Coming Out of My Cage (And I'm Not Doing So Fine)

by honeyandsunshine



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Danny is a good Uncle, Eric has always coded as gay to be and I honestly cannot tell you why, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Its honestly 5000 words of Eric having a panic attack and Danny comforting him, M/M, Steve is mentioned but doesn't actually appear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyandsunshine/pseuds/honeyandsunshine
Summary: Eric has dealt with this sort of thing before on his own. He is fine. His boyfriend is fine. There is no need to alert the police. There is no need to make a fuss. And there is certainly no need to wake his Uncle up in the middle of the night to tell him such. Especially when his Uncle doesn't even know he's gay in the first place.Danny very much disagrees.Or:It started out with a kiss. How did it end up like this? It was only a kiss. It was only a kiss.
Relationships: Eric "E-Train" Russo & Danny "Danno" Williams, Eric "E-Train" Russo/Original Male Character
Comments: 14
Kudos: 109





	Coming Out of My Cage (And I'm Not Doing So Fine)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This story has a brief but central flashback to attempted violence based on someone's sexuality. Please, please, please, if this will in anyway be harmful to you I would caution you in reading this. I didn't make it terribly graphic but I want to make sure everyone is safe while reading this. 
> 
> Otherwise, I really just wanted to write a coming out story. I had a wonderful coming out to people who were absolutely understanding and accepting (and what is it with everyone coming out in a car; I came out in a car; half my friends came out in a car; its just a thing at this point), but I know not everyone had that. I've always viewed Eric as gay to me (still, no idea why but I have), so I've had this idea for a while! Anyway, I hope the acceptance and understanding is what people take from this. I think Danny would be a wonderful figure to come out to, and would handle it well once he understood what was being discussed, so I kinda went off that notion.

Eric reaches Danny’s apartment when the moon is still high in the sky. Or rather, he crashes into the doorway leading to the stairwell  _ that leads _ to Danny’s apartment, but at this point, the specifics don’t matter to him. Stairwell means apartment, and apartment means Uncle D, and that manages to calm the  _ run run run  _ echoing inside his skull. 

Even if he has no idea what he’s doing, at least he can catch a breath for the first time in nearly an hour, even if it is in the shitty stairwell on his way to his Uncle’s even shittier apartment. At least, he’s out of the rain and cold, and if he’s just standing senseless in front of his Uncle’s apartment, dripping rain and sweat and panic onto the mismatched tile floors, then no one is the wiser.

Eric knows that the solution isn’t going to appear out of nowhere. He doesn’t even want to be here really - _ except he does, he really really does-,  _ and he doesn’t even know if Uncle D is here, and if he is, he’ll most likely be asleep and  _ God, Eric get it together.  _

Eric squeezes his eyes shut tight and takes in a deep breath, or well, a deeper breath than he’s taken in far longer than he likes to think. He has two options: either knock on the door or leave, but the last dredges of his common sense are somewhere along his panicked run out in the monsoon outside - _ with his keys and his phone and shit, Fong is gonna kill him if he’s late again-  _ and Eric can barely keep his thoughts in order, much less  _ choose  _ between them.

He stands there for another minute, staring blankly at the door as if it would give him the answer. In the end, someone else chooses for him. Something goes off in the distance, a car or a muffler or _ -or them _ , and Eric is moving without his brain even processing the request. His hand forms a fist seemingly of his own accord, and he’s pounding on his Uncle’s door like his life depends on it, heedless of the neighbors on either side or any others down the hall. 

There’s a thump, and then a growl, and Eric barely has time to think about how bad of an idea this is, before the door in front of him is being ripped open, and all chances to just up and leave fly out the window. His Uncle looks beyond pissed, and if there were any part of Eric that wasn’t pure, cold-blooded panic right now, he’d be preemptively begging forgiveness at the sight of it. 

“Eric it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?” Uncle D hisses, and almost immediately Eric has to fight the instinct to turn tail and run. He’s cold and he’s miserable and he wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed and stay there until the end of time.

But instead he came here, and he still has no idea  _ why,  _ other than the growing gnawing ache in his chest. 

“You see it’s actually a- a pretty funny story, Uncle D,“ he tries, hoping somehow to lighten the mood, but his voice is wrong, all warbled and bent and breathless from his run. Danny narrows his eyes at him, and apparently that’s all it takes for his words to catch. “I’m just- I  _ just- _ ” 

He just has no clue. He can’t finish a sentence. He can’t keep himself safe. And great, now he’s crying. Quietly, almost inconspicuously, but Uncle D’s a detective, not to mention standing three feet away from him, close enough to notice the subtle hitching of his shoulders even in the dim hallway light.

“Eric?” Uncle D asks again, but this time the tone is quieter, different. It’s his Gracie-voice, and he guesses his Charlie-voice now too, soft and warm and soothing, meant to calm his children during nightmares and storms, not his grown-ass nephew at some ungodly hour in the morning. Still, it’s there, setting in the space between them, as Danny shifts his weight into something less aggressive than earlier. “Kid, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

Eric shakes his head. He shouldn’t have come here, he knows it, opens his mouth to tell his uncle to just forget about it. He’s dealt with it plenty of times without going to anyone, why should this be any different? A muted cry wrestles its way out instead. 

He clamps a hand over his mouth but it’s already too late. The sound fills the empty space between them, threatening to suffocate them both. Danny’s eyes are wide, and Eric knows his own must be the same, and suddenly, he’s rooted to the spot. 

Danny recovers first, because of course he does. He battles drug dealers and terrorists and killers on the daily.  _ This  _ is nothing. Immediately, he crosses the space between them and presses a hand to Eric’s wet jacket sleeve, giving him a brief but through once over.

“Are you hurt?” 

Eric stares at him, brain working furiously but mouth suddenly silent, because honestly,  _ he doesn’t know.  _ This should be more terrifying really, but everything feels like it’s coming to him in a daze. His nonanswer only freaks Danny out further. He pulls him further inside the apartment, shutting the door behind them, and immediately reaches back for his nephew.

Eric can’t help the flinch. 

Danny apparently can’t help the curse that slips out of his mouth either, quiet and soft, before he’s drawing back slowly and and meeting Eric’s gaze.

“Eric,” There’s that voice again. Eric can’t help but shut his eyes at the familiar sound. “I need to know if you’re hurt, ok? Can you show me if you are?”

Eric doesn’t know. He was so focused on getting here, getting  _ out,  _ he hasn’t had any time to take stock. He does now, with the door shut behind him and his uncle’s secure presence, and he suddenly takes note of the stinging along his palms and the strong iron taste of his own skin still pressed over his lips. 

He blinks his eyes back open and brings his hands up to his view for the first time since he’s arrived. The sight of his scraped and bloody palms startles them both.

The lab tech in Eric notes what might have caused each scratch and bruise - the mailbox he caught himself on Casey Street, the asphalt outside Danny’s apartment, the terrifying head over heels tumble when they were  _ too close too close- _ . The rest of him just wants all proof of this encounter  _ gone _ .

He does not seem to be the only one. Danny jerks forward at the sight, and just as quickly comes to an abrupt stop. He takes a sharp ragged breath that echoes about the apartment.

“How ‘bout I take a look at that, huh?” There’s an odd sort of forced calm in his voice, like when Gracie won’t pick up her phone after practice, and Danny’s just starting to get panicked. “Is it ok if I do that, Eric?”

Eric’s brain isn’t working at full speed right now but that doesn’t seem to matter. He nods before he can really process the request. His Uncle’s hand is warm even through his soaked jacket, as he takes his elbow again and leads them to the couch, pushing Eric down against it and taking up a kneeling position before him.

Eric thinks Danny might have left at some point too, just for a second, because that med-kit’s the one they keep in the bathroom not the living room and he’s no longer in his soaked through coat, but he can’t really tell. It’s like his head is swimming in goo and every thought has to trek through the gunk to be processed. 

It’s shock probably, but knowing what it is doesn’t help him any. Everything is coming in bits and pieces. Sometimes Uncle D is there, then he’s not, and at some point a blanket falls over his shoulders, but he can’t tell when. Everything is disjointed and wrong, and Eric would feel panicked if his emotions weren’t doing the same thing and floating just out of his reach. His focus narrows to his Uncle and the distant flicks of pain as he gently abrades his palms, back and forth, motion to pain, swirling in and out of his consciousness like a tide. 

And then he catches a glimpse of Danny’s wristwatch and he jerks back to awareness.

Because dammit… is it really that late?

He blinks to clear his vision, shakes himself a bit, and feels for the first time the true sting of the antiseptic Danny is pressing into his palms. 

The hiss out of his mouth is more surprise than pain. Whatever it is, it does the job, and the fog that’s been hanging around his head finally lifts. For the first time that night, there’s clarity to his thoughts, and Eric is all the more relieved at the development. The tight clutch his body’s been in loosens just a bit.

Then he takes in the time again and it’s all he can do not to bolt at that very minute.

It really is that late. Fuck, it  _ really is that late. _

He tries to tug his hand out of his Uncle’s grasp.

“Shit, D it’s like three and you have work in the morning.  _ I  _ have work in the morning. I need to go-“

“ _ You _ ’ _ re  _ not going anywhere, you putz.” Danny says, as he wraps another bandage along his palm. “No one’s going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“We’re going to be late! What do you mean going…” he catches sight of his hands again and the events of the night catch back up to him. “Oh. That going on.”

“Yah, that  _ going on _ , Eric. The one that sends you terrified to my door at two in the morning. The one that has you looking like you went one on one with a belt sander, that  _ going on _ .”

“I.. right.” Eric says, and immediately feels like a complete idiot. Of course, Danny would want to know what was wrong, why he hadn’t considered that before now is ridiculous, but he hadn’t at all, and now he has no idea what to say. 

“Eric?” His Uncle prompts, and Eric takes the opportunity to sigh. He’s got getting out of this one, not when his Uncle’s taken on that tone. He centers himself by picking at the crisp white bandages over his palms, and starts.

“I was out with a- a friend, and then I dropped him off at his place, and then I went to get to my car and then..”

_ And then they came out, these people who followed him after they caught him and Miguel trading a quick kiss behind the theatre, barely a peck on the cheek, and isn’t that ironic that he phrased it ‘come out’ when that was something he would do if not for them, if not for these people who gathered about his car like he was some sort of criminal, who threw taunts and jeers and who made him so terrified that he booked it out of there without so much as a glance back.  _

“And then?” Danny asks, jarring Eric out of the memories. His Uncle’s writing this down, he notes, likely for a police report Eric won’t file, and somehow that sets him off more than anything else. The words come in a flurry of panic and fear that Eric thought he left the minute he crossed the threshold into his Uncle’s apartment.

“I don’t know- they just- they said some things and they were all really drunk and one of them was really angry and he had like a knife-” Eric desperately ignores Danny’s horrified echo of  _ ‘a knife’ _ and continues. “Or- Or something , I don’t know it was dark and, and- I panicked and now I’m here ok? It’s really no big deal-.“

“No big deal! Eric you said they tried to  _ assault _ you!”

“I mean yes, but I’ve dealt with it before. It’s fine.“

The pad Danny’s scribbling on drops as his Uncle’s eyes snap up to him, especially sharp.

“What do you mean  _ before? _ ” His voice is a hiss. “Eric, why did these people come after you? How long has this been going on?” 

He must be thinking of Uncle Matty, almost always is when he has outbursts like this, and like all other times when he’s thinking of Uncle Matty, he sounds angry. He  _ is  _ angry, fists clenching right along the table. It should scare him, anger so soon after all this, but it’s not directed at him. Instead it feels safe, protective instead of aggressive.

This is the Danny that taught him how to face off bullies, that cleaned up his scraped knees when he fell, who taught him how to hold a bat, and who cheered at his first game like some sort of maniac.

This is his uncle who he told  _ everything  _ to. 

_ He hasn’t told him about this, he can’t, but the desire sits the words at the tip of his tongue, makes him feel small and far too big all at the same time, like when Danny would catch him and Gracie fighting when they were little, like shame and hope all at once.  _

“Eric,” Danny says again, a bit sharper, like a demand. He reaches out for his nephew, placatingly, and suddenly Eric can’t stand this distance, these lies between them. “Talk to me. I need to know what’s-“

“I’m gay.”

Danny freezes, hand outstretched. Just stops and stares at him. There’s one beat, two, before his uncle is drawing back with this  _ look  _ in his eyes. 

“What?” Danny’s voice is sharp, and the sound cuts across the room. 

Eric flinches. Hard. He should step back,  _ he should _ , but his brains not working right so instead he steps forward so that his shins connect harshly with the table between them. His brain is still but his mouth is not.

“I’m gay.” He says again, and feels the rest flow out of his mouth like a flood. “I was out with a man, who I like, who- who I might  _ love  _ and he’s super kind and amazing and beautiful and I wanted you to meet-, but you can’t because this had to happen, this  _ always happens _ . We didn’t do anything, we just kissed and they followed us, chased me, and I’m glad that it was me and not Miguel but I’m still terrified because somehow this always happens and now I’m here and I don’t know why and  _ and- _ ” He cuts off angrily to his Uncle still staring at him, mouth slightly parted. He still hasn’t said anything, and Eric is more than well aware of what that means. 

His heart plummets in his chest. He had hoped Danny would- he had _, he had hoped wrong_ that’s what he did, and now he wants nothing more than to leave, get as far away from this place as possible. 

“I’ll go. This was stupid anyway-“

His Uncle seems to have finally found his voice and starts forward. 

“Eric-“ He starts. 

Eric waves him off, reaching for his coat. His hand shakes. He can’t make it stop, not his hand not his mouth not his aching heart. He needs to leave. He needs to leave  _ now _ .

“You don’t have to say anything. Lab techs are needed pretty much everywhere, so I can find another job somewhere else, where you won’t have to-“

Uncle D makes another step towards him, reaching for him,  _ to push him out he’s already leaving why would-  _

“Eric, damn it, I’m not trying to-“

It’s exactly what Uncle D is trying to do. He won’t say it of course; he cares to much about his sister to say what he wants about his gay nephew, but Eric knows the views of a lot of the men back in Jersey. Still, his Uncle has always treated him well, got his record cleared, gave him a new way of living, a new job. Eric can put aside his hurt, to make this break as clean as possible for Danny. It’s the least he can do. 

“I’ll say it was of my own accord,” Eric continues, backing away from his Uncle’s outstretched hands. “You won’t have to say a thing, and then you won’t ever have to see me again”

“Eric, will you just listen-“

“Listen, thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but you don’t have to-“

“Damn it Eric!” His uncle yells, and suddenly, he’s spun around away from the door. Eric braces himself, breath bated for a blow or smack, and instead he’s pulled tight against Danny’s chest, his unfurled coat the only buffer between his uncle’s tee and his own still-damp button-up.

Another sob wrestles it’s way out of his mouth unwarranted because he’s still waiting for the blow, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, head spinning with scathing remarks from neighborhood boys:  _ homo, homo, fa-. _

Uncle D hushes him instead, presses his head down against his shoulder and rubs softly along his back. His soaked coat must be bleeding into Danny’s tee, but his Uncle doesn’t complain. Instead he rocks them both to a rhythm Eric doesn’t hear. 

“Easy Eric; take a breath, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” His uncle’s timber is warm and loud to his ears, rumbling through his chest and into his own. 

The hand on his back moves up to pet through his hair, then back down to squeeze along the back of his neck. Eric’s breaths hitch at the motion, so Danny restarts the process, uncurling his fingers to rub along the space between his shoulders. All the while he keeps up a quiet litany of comfort, everything from ‘its alright’ to ‘I love you’ and back again

It’s too much, and then it’s exactly enough. And, when he thinks he’s finally gotten used to that, it switches back again. 

It’s  _ overwhelming _ , is what it really is. Enough so that when he finally comes back to himself, they’ve miraculously switched positions, kneeling instead of standing, himself half curled in his Uncle’s lap, his Uncle rubbing soft circles along his arm. In the distance, the soft patter of rain can be heard, and Eric grabs onto that certainty, snags it and uses it to better cement himself to the current situation instead of wherever his brain went careening off to. 

He blinks to reorient himself, feels the soft damp cotton of his Uncle’s tee beneath his face, and then blinks again and slowly unfurls himself from the half-ball he’d curled himself into. His Uncle lets him go, but the hand on his arm stays and helps keep him steady. 

“Eric?” He asks, and the thumb over his bicep rubs a soft line. “You back with me?”

Eric doesn’t trust his voice, but he nods regardless and lets his Uncle run a quick hand through his hair. It’s an old gesture, one he hasn’t used since Eric was old enough to protest, but the familiarity seems to settle them both. Eric finds it in himself to brush away the tears, and Danny moves a bit to ebb what must be an aching in his bad knee. They don’t move away from each other, not really, but even that slight distance is enough for Eric to collect himself and curb his still, slightly frantic breathing. 

He’s collected himself a bit more by the time Danny returns his grip to his shoulder and vies for his attention. 

“Lets move to the couch, hm? That’ll be a better place for this conversation.”

The past what twenty,  _ thirty? _ minutes he just spent sobbing is more than enough conversation for Eric, but he catches that determined glint in his Uncle’s eye and knows better than to argue. It’s the same thing he sees when Uncle D goes running after The Commander, cursing and spitting but steadfast every time. And if Commander Steve McGarret hasn’t found a way to shake it, then Eric Russo, tired and worn and seconds away from another breakdown, isn’t likely to do so anytime soon. So he accepts the hand he doesn’t really need to get up, and the support to the couch he probably does, and doesn’t flinch when Danny miraculously somehow appears with a warm mug of cocoa that is shoved into his empty hands. 

The drink tastes a little like chocolate and a lot like his Uncle’s favorite whisky and Eric relishes the burn that carves his way through his throat. 

_ Alcohol is a much-more tried and true method of dealing with these things than whatever the last thirty minutes were.  _

Still, Eric doesn’t think that he’s going to get out of this conversation because of it, especially not when Danny gently tugs the mug down when he tries to hide his face. He settles himself next to Eric on the couch, close but not so much as to crowd, and takes a breath. 

“Let's start here, yah? I am, in no way, going to throw you out of the HPD. Got that? This has no basis on whether or not you have a job, and if it ever becomes one, you come get me and we will fix that, understand?” 

Eric nods, and then stills when Danny fixes him with a look.

“We use words here Eric; try that again.” It’s gruff, but cautiously teasing, and Eric feels the edges of his mouth tug up for the first time tonight. 

“You wouldn’t need me to say it if you just used your glasses, old man.” He returns and ignores the roll of Danny’s eyes. “Not being kicked out; I let you pick a fight with homophobes, I get it.”

“Good.” His Uncle punctuates the word with a nod, and something dark and steely grows in his eyes. The tension returns with it, and Eric feels his hesitance return at the way Danny visibly gathers himself, running a hand through his own hair before turning worn eyes towards his nephew.

“I want you to tell me every moment I made you feel like you couldn’t share this with me.”

Eric falters at the guilt he hears there. 

“Uncle D..” He tries, only to be cut off.

“Every. Moment. I know I ride you, make things difficult for you, but that’s because I know how great of a man you’re going to be. But if while I was trying to help you, I made you feel that I was going to punish you for  _ this _ -“ Danny cuts off sharply, drawing in a breath, and when he turns back, he presses his forehead up against Eric’s like he’s seen McGarret do when comforting his team. “You are family, Eric.  _ Ohana _ . Whoever you decide to date or love has no bearing on the fact that I am proud to be your uncle. So yes, I want to know every time I made you feel like this would have any bearing on my love for you. I want to know so I can apologize and never make that mistake again.”

He draws away, easily, and Eric feels like his heart may burst, like it is bursting, thundering out of his chest and taking all his senses with it. This is more than he had ever hope, more than he would have  _ dared _ hope for. It takes a moment to find his voice where it’s caught in his chest, and when he finally does, it’s barely more than a whisper.

“You haven’t, didn’t. There were… there were others.”

A growl forms in Danny’s chest before he can stop it. 

“Names.”

Eric blinks. Searches for coherence in the still jumbled mess that is his brain. 

“I… what?” 

“Names. I want their names. No one should make you feel like this, like I was gonna do something crazy just ‘cuz you’re dating a man!”

His Uncle looks frustrated, all wide motions and huffs of breath, and that coupled with the bedhead and damp patch on his shoulder makes him look absolutely ridiculous. Eric can’t help but laugh just a little at the juxtaposition. 

It comes out a bit strangled and slightly hysterical, but the sound is enough to displace a good portion of the tension in the room. Eventually his Uncle lowers his arms and joins him, however reluctantly, a faint grin along his face. 

Eric returns it with one of his own, and then punctuates it with a yawn so wide it nearly cracks his jaw. That gets him another laugh, and a quick rub along his shoulders, a remnant of gestures they haven’t used in years.

“It’s late. We can talk about this in the morning,” Danny says, and if Eric were anymore awake, he would bristle at the soft, fatherly tone. As it is, the adrenaline of the past few hours has finally disappeared, and he can barely keep his eyes open. He finds himself leaning into Danny’s solid warmth, even as the man lowers him down across the couch cushions. “You can stay here tonight.”

“To- what?” Eric mumbles intelligently, and ignores Danny’s snort as he goes to fetch blankets. There’s a soft thump as his Uncle tosses a comforter over him, then another -a quilt? Whatever it is, it’s warm and soft and Eric breathes out a sigh of contentment as he curls into them. It’s enough to ignore even his Uncle’s fussing, as he readjusts the blankets and quilts like he would for his children. 

Danny stops in his motions for a moment, resting his hand against the exposed skin of Eric’s neck.

“I would like to.” He says, and the tone is quiet and soft, as if Eric was not meant to hear.

Eric blinks heavy lids at the words. The events of the last couple hours have caught up to him and it’s beyond the point of late. He wants nothing more than to pass out on Danny’s couch and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. 

But after what his uncle’s just given him? Eric will do anything, even if that means forcing his eyes open in a way that surely must be comical and mumbling a garbled ‘ _ what’  _ into the cushions beneath his face. 

“I would like to meet him. That’s what you wanted right?”

“H _ mm? _ ”

Danny lets out a soft laugh from somewhere up above him, a mix of incredulousness and entertainment. His hand drops warm and heavy to rub a soft line along Eric’s side. The easy rhythm is almost enough to send him off entirely, and what’s left of the residual tension bleeds out of his body. He would fall asleep like this; he  _ has  _ fallen asleep like this, when he was much younger and thought hanging out with his uncle was the coolest thing he’s ever done. 

He apparently wasn’t wrong. This was… this was nice to say the least.

(And amazing and wonderful and breathtaking and more than he ever expected.)

Still, he needs to tune back into this conversation, if he wants to pay even some of that back. So, he shifts a bit and makes a motion for his uncle to continue. 

There’s another huff of laughter before Danny clarifies slowly, like he’s speaking to a child.

“This boy who’s stolen your heart. Bring him over to 5-0 next time. I want to meet him.”

It starts fond, but by the end, there’s an edge to his voice. There’s no hate to this sound though, not even disgust. Instead, the growl is something familiar, but the haze of his post-adrenaline exhaustion makes it hard to place...

It has something to do with Gracie and that boyfriend of hers, what was his name? Jackson? No, that wasn’t it. Jason, maybe? Uncle D gets that tone with him a lot, the one that always predates...

His face heats up. 

“You’re gonna give my boyfriend  _ the shovel talk _ ?” Eric groans, and he feels the hand on his side give an apologetic pat. “I’m a grown man, D! You don’t have to threaten my boyfriend like I’m going to my first prom!”

“I’m not threatening.” Danny defends, even as Eric gives an exhausted scoff. “I’m just giving him incentive. To treat you right.” 

His voice goes soft. 

“I need to make sure he treats you right.”

And damn, if his chest wasn’t already warm enough. Eric should feel frustrated, he knows. Maybe even a bit irritated that his Uncle is, undoubtedly, going to interrogate his boyfriend like he does every terrorist and murderer they drag back to the station, and quite possibly, get the rest of the team to do so as well. But all Eric feels is loved. Loved and protected and far too fucking tired to continue this conversation for much longer. Still, he can reassure his Uncle of this bit. 

He wiggles his hand out of the blankets and snatches his Uncle’s from where it rests on his side. Even with his eyes closed, he can feel the callouses from too many years of baseball and paperwork and chasing the Commander all over the island, from protecting and being protected in turn. He feels them and hopes Uncle D can feel his too, how the bandages will never fully cover the same marks on his own hands, like the mirror he won’t admit he is. 

“He’s taking care of me just fine.” Eric mumbles into the cushions, and feels his Uncle’s answering squeeze - _ acceptance _ \- along their joined hands. 

“Miguel’s amazing, breathtaking really.” 

He pauses and deliberates for just a second, even though he knows the next words that will leave his lips. Still, he needs to give these words their weight, show Danny he knows the full implications of everything he is about to say. 

“He’s my  _ ohana,  _ Uncle D. Just as much as you or Mom are to me. As much as Five-0 is to you. He’s.. it’s…”

The hand in his squeezes firmly but not tightly, avoiding causing pain but bleeding love all the way. 

“Yah?” His uncle says, in a question that really isn’t, and that one word is filled with more affection and knowing than he’ll ever be able to thank him for. 

“Yah.” 

The word rings finality into the space, but its the good kind, the kind that settles them both. The exhaustion hits him then, slackening his grip on his Uncle’s hand and muffling what’s left of his conscious thought. He’s safe here. He’s safe and protected and accepted and nothing has calmed him more than that thought. 

It’s the best sedative he could have, and Eric, finally, blissfully, drifts off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know this may not be the place for it, but feel free to place any discussion you want in the comments, whether it be about the piece or your coming out or anything otherwise! I always want to hear what yall are thinking so feel free to share whatever you feel comfortable with.


End file.
